


The Shape Of The Universe: an anthology of very short stories

by Caturtle



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23280523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caturtle/pseuds/Caturtle
Summary: just some small things I wrote not too long ago. None of them are specifically related but feel free to have your interpretations as wild as possible! also its not supposed to make sense so dw





	1. Chapter 1

Rain would fall and rain would fall again, after sunshine. that's how the world works at the very core. Is it even worth saying that things will change and go back? It's reassuring at least but there's not much you can argue about with it. Either way works, Cat thought. With that, he looked out the window. The glass was stained green with a bit of blue, and the rain fell smoothly. Instead of single pats and splashes, the rain sounded like a stream - almost silent and softly flowing. But it could just be the glass that changes how the rain looked. Past the rain, he could see the valley only behind the colorful clay houses of the mountain. the lights from the buildings were on, but faint. the painted walls of the houses were washed out and greyed from the clouds rolling out of the valley. a train passed by as silently as the clouds did, puncturing the thick and soft sounds with a slightly muted note, letting the passengers know they'd reached the central peak. Elsewhere, somewhere Cat could not see, was the creatures of the crater pond slipping into the room through another window, and falling asleep wedged in between two books on architecture. The room's lights flickered on and off but not in a way that was too noticeable. The red and fluffy chair he'd been sitting on slowly felt more comfortable, and the warmth from the vents slowly made him feel tired. it had been a long day, after all.


	2. heavy water

The stars would roam the sky but always end up in the same place in the evening, she'd noticed. To her, space was a dense ocean, with heavy water and angels instead of fish, flowers that are blooming yet dead at the same time, and light that could itself somewhere else. she dreamed she could reach up into the sky and take out a piece of the celestial yet muddy substance, and do nothing but gaze at it in an attempt to see the worlds closer. Even if she could, deep down she knew it wouldn't work: Once she'd gotten close to the stars, she would only see more stars even farther away - the stars wouldn't end, they'd all go on and on and on, flickering here and there and finally all exploding into inconceivable spots of darkness and color. Exploding into inconceivable spots of darkness and color didn't sound too bad of a way to go, she thought...


	3. dendrians

“Dendrians don’t have the luxury of choosing their gods.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“It means I hate them all. I hate their court and I hate how they’re asleep. I hate how they won’t wake up. I hate how they only think about themselves and I hate how they see us as furniture. But I still have to go and pray to them to change. It’ll never happen. But I still do it because what else can I possibly do?”  
Cat had never seen Mooxls this angry. But the truth is, he never thought about the gods that way. He thought of them as something you’d put on a birthday card, or a flag. He didn’t really think they were real, and he didn’t really think anyone else thought they were real either. He never read the stories about them. He didn’t even know their names. They were just things to him. They were just pictures and words.  
But they weren’t pictures. They were here and they were watching.  
Mooxls looked at the sky, the water, and the soil. All of them were the color of the void. Everything was stained with dark - not black, it was dark - something other than black. It wasn’t black, it’s what you’d see if you didn’t have eyes; what you’d hear if you couldn’t; the eternal taste of a bitter void.


	4. The Shape Of The Universe

what if I told you that the universe isn't spherical?"  
"What shape would it be then?"  
"It wouldn't."  
At this point Cat closed his eyes for a moment and tried to imagine what the universe might be if it wasn't a shape. The sunlight blazed through his eyelids making his field of vision a mixture of black and red and yellow, and he opened his eyes again. "that doesn't really make sense to me", he said.  
"I don't really get it either," said Aza, "but it still works...  
"because, like, it's really the matter in the universe that's increasing, you know? But there just has to be a space for it to increase in, because that's just how things are."  
The first part was already hard to understand, but this was like trying to stretch a rock like gum around a tree. "It'll make sense eventually," Aza said. "Probably."


	5. Three Dimensional Storm

the ship wasnt due to leave until three o'clock but it was leaving now because of the storm. the storm wasn't planned and the ship leaving wasnt planned either, and the families stranded didn't plan to be stuck at home at the mercy of the swirling mass of rock and dust and light...   
Of course there wasn't a way out. the storm was three dimensions, maybe four, in all directions it blocked you but there wasn't any top or bottom or sides that you could hit your fists against to no avail. you were in the wall, the wall that flowed into itself and was guarding or protecting something incomprehensible and impossible to think of. all storms are like that. All storms, in the rings, at least, were like that and nobody realized it and nobody ever will because the storm is a storm is a storm, that was all what was on their minds.   
He couldn't get on the ship. He knew that it wouldn't work, and the storm would follow him to the end of the universe or it would follow the people he loved, and even if there was a chance it wasn't, he couldn't take it. He couldn't take it or else every day he'd be tired and every night he wouldnt be able to sleep. his mind would keep going back to the start of it all, that day in fifth grade, when he locked eyes with him, someone like him but not quite but that was all he needed to survive that day and the next and the next. that didn't stop him from trying; trying because there wasn't anything else to do and just standing there wasn't an option. it wasn't an option. he needed to do something, at the very least, just in case something would change.


End file.
